


His Healing Touch

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [141]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Caretaking, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Magic, Pain, Protective Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25888699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: As you sit there cursing yet another headache, Loki takes you by surprise.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [141]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 14
Kudos: 148





	His Healing Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Has anybody else noticed just a serious uptick in nuisance-type headaches in quarantine? Just dull, achey sinus bullcrap that makes you miserable but doesn’t keep you from living your life? Because...I have. These last few lullabies are going to end up being really self-indulgent, so I’m sorry in advance to those of you who get sick of it! I’m really nervous about going back to school and maybe I long to just disappear into Loki.

It was always something, wasn’t it? Being stuck at home with the love of your life should have been wonderful and peaceful, but...that was hard, with the world burning down around you. Everything was changing. The word “normal” was meaningless and misleading at this point, and you, like everyone else, knew that basically nothing was ever going to be the same again. If you didn’t spend your days lost in anxiety, spinning out over fear about the future or your own worthiness of Loki’s affection, you got to deal with the physical symptoms of the same stress. Your head was killing you.

Back before all of this happened, you still got headaches a fair amount. They were never crippling or anything: usually you could just pop a painkiller or something and take it easy until the meds kicked in, at which point all was well again. Lately, though, you felt like you shouldn’t have as many as you did. You were getting more sleep than ever before, and possibly better sleep: it’d been a long time since you’d gotten the recommended 7-8 hours of sleep per night. That meant that your relationship with caffeine was a lot healthier now. And work was less stressful! Maybe now you had to be a little more worried about whether layoffs were coming, but your supervisor kept assuring everyone in video staff meetings that everyone was safe. 

So you shouldn’t be having nearly this many headaches. 

Most of the time, they were just a dull pressure behind your eyes. You didn’t even really bother with medication for those, just tried to distract yourself with something else. When they got a little worse—a little sharper, a little more throbbing—you did what you could. Thankfully they hadn’t gotten bad enough to really impact your day-to-day life or drive you to mention them to Loki. 

Today, you sat at the kitchen table with your head in your hands. You’d been working on your computer for a while, but the screen was starting to irritate your eyes, and that dull, nothing-headache was starting to grow. You closed your eyes and rubbed your temples. Maybe you needed some water? But even that, the idea of standing up and taking like four steps to get a glass and fill it with water, seemed like too much for you.

You must have been too distracted to hear Loki step into the kitchen. You didn’t hear him circle the table, didn’t even know he was nearby until you felt his cool hands slip over yours. You flinched and gasped, but immediately relaxed into his touch with a short laugh.

“Are you well?” His voice was like a balm. Listening to it soothed you. For a moment you allowed yourself to toy with the idea of asking him to tell you a story or something—anything to get him to talk a little longer. But he hummed a question at you even as he took over massaging your temples. He wanted an answer.

Obviously your first instinct was to nod. Headaches weren’t the end of the world. And even if they somehow _were_ , this was not an end-of-the-world headache. But then you remembered how easily he’d just crept up behind you and thought better of it. He already knew the answer to his own question. Maybe he was just checking to see whether you’d tell him the truth. 

“My head hurts,” you said with a sigh. “It’s not a big deal.” There. That wasn’t a lie. Surely he’d know that.

“Pain is the body’s way of telling you to stop whatever it is that you’re doing, isn’t it? Take a break.” He moved one hand to rest it on the back of your neck, and squeezed your neck gently. You couldn’t hold back your breathy moan. You hadn’t planned on giving in to him so easily, but maybe right now you’d follow him anywhere, if it meant he’d keep doing that. You sighed and let your head tilt forward a bit, so as to give him better access to your muscles. 

He obliged you with a quiet chuckle, and set about working his fingers into the knots in your shoulders. Maybe these were part of the cause of your headaches? You were half-convinced, as illogical as it was, that the pain stemmed mainly from the upheaval in the world. It was hard to be sure that anything really had much of a physical cause anymore. Loki eased your pain gently, tenderly, and even when you couldn’t stop the moans from falling past your lips, he did not tease you. 

“If I was alone right now—” You cut yourself off as he probed your shoulder blade with deft fingertips. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to work all the pain and discomfort out of your muscles. “Loki, god… I don’t know what I’d do without you...”

He did allow himself one quiet chuckle, but so what? He could feel as pleased with himself as he wanted, as long as he kept this up. “My precious heart, I often find myself thinking the same thing about you. Come...” He bent forward a bit, to rest his chin on your shoulder even as he slipped his arms under yours so he could help you to your feet. “Rest your aching body against the cushions and allow your love to soothe your pain.”

You got the sense that he was hesitating a bit. That he’d relent if you fought very hard against him or insisted that you still had a lot of work to finish. But how could you do that? An Asgardian prince—one who loved you very much—was asking you to come and rest with him and let him make you feel better. It was true that, ages ago, back at the beginning of all of this, you might have considered arguing with him, but today you let yourself go almost limp in his arms. You could feel the warmth of his smile as he guided you into the living room. 

You might have expected him to have you put your head in his lap, but he surprised you. Instead, he had you sit on the sofa and then sat beside you, turned to face you. He cupped your cheeks in his palms and pulled you a little closer to kiss the tip of your nose. You sighed, and your eyes drifted closed nearly of their own accord. You heard him murmur something in an approving tone, and then he rested his thumbs against your eyelids. Even that felt lovely, so tender and comforting. He said things to you, foreign words under his breath, and you came to realize that he was reciting incantations.

He was using his magic for you. On you. You had to fight the urge to shiver. You were fascinated by the things that he could do, but even now you rarely had the courage to ask him about it. He was powerful—insanely so—and could cast illusions as easily as he whispered your name at night, and surely by now he had noticed the hungry way you watched him work. You wanted to open your eyes to look at him now, but his thumbs easily prevented that. He knew what he was doing. You suppressed a smile and murmured his name. Whether it was his magic or just the fact that he was touching you, you could feel your pain begin to ebb away. Were your cheeks warm? Could he feel you blushing against his palms?

When your headache had faded at last, he didn’t unhand you right away. Instead, he pulled your face forward once again and kissed your nose, then your forehead. Only then did he let you open your eyes. When you did, he was already looking at you, with that same loving, heated gaze. Even after all this time, it still made your heart beat a little bit faster in your chest.

“If you knew you could do that, why did you ask me to take a break with you? Surely you could have done this in the kitchen and I could have gone right back to work.” But you didn’t _really_ need an answer. This was infinitely better than what you’d been working on. Maybe he knew that. He smiled slyly and lowered his arms to your shoulders.

“But if I’d done that, who know how much longer you would have kept working. But I’ve got you now. You’re mine.” And then he gave you a sharp tug, pulling your whole body towards him even as he tipped himself backwards. You couldn’t stop your squeak of surprise, but you did quickly fit yourself against his body.

“It looks like _I’ve_ got _you_ ,” you couldn’t help but grin as you beamed down at him. He did not answer, only slipped one hand beneath your top and traced gentle patterns against your skin. 

“Oh, my precious love,” he said in that low voice, that delicious voice. “Whatever shall we do?”

You dipped your head, then, to capture his lips with your own. Oh, you knew what to do.


End file.
